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Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it;

       The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder,

       That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc’d

       The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass.

       Therefore my son i’ th’ ooze is bedded; and

       I’ll seek him deeper than e’er plummet sounded,

       And with him there lie mudded.

       [Exit]

       SEBASTIAN.

       But one fiend at a time,

       I’ll fight their legions o’er.

       ANTONIO.

       I’ll be thy second.

       [Exeunt SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO]

       GONZALO.

       All three of them are desperate: their great guilt,

       Like poison given to work a great time after,

       Now ‘gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you

       That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly

       And hinder them from what this ecstasy

       May now provoke them to.

       ADRIAN.

       Follow, I pray you.

       [Exeunt]

ACT 4

       Table of Contents

       SCENE I. Before PROSPERO’S cell

       [Enter PROSPERO! FERDINAND, and MIRANDA]

       PROSPERO.

       If I have too austerely punish’d you,

       Your compensation makes amends: for

       Have given you here a third of mine own life,

       Or that for which I live; who once again

       I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations

       Were but my trials of thy love, and thou

       Hast strangely stood the test: here, afore Heaven,

       I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand!

       Do not smile at me that I boast her off,

       For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise,

       And make it halt behind her.

       FERDINAND.

       I do believe it

       Against an oracle.

       PROSPERO.

       Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition

       Worthily purchas’d, take my daughter: but

       If thou dost break her virgin knot before

       All sanctimonious ceremonies may

       With full and holy rite be minister’d,

       No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall

       To make this contract grow; but barren hate,

       Sour-ey’d disdain, and discord, shall bestrew

       The union of your bed with weeds so loathly

       That you shall hate it both: therefore take heed,

       As Hymen’s lamps shall light you.

       FERDINAND.

       As I hope

       For quiet days, fair issue, and long life,

       With such love as ‘tis now, the murkiest den,

       The most opportune place, the strong’st suggestion

       Our worser genius can, shall never melt

       Mine honour into lust, to take away

       The edge of that day’s celebration,

       When I shall think, or Phoebus’ steeds are founder’d,

       Or Night kept chain’d below.

       PROSPERO.

       Fairly spoke:

       Sit, then, and talk with her, she is thine own.

       What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!

       [Enter ARIEL]

       ARIEL.

       What would my potent master? here I am.

       PROSPERO.

       Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service

       Did worthily perform; and I must use you

       In such another trick. Go bring the rabble,

       O’er whom I give thee power, here to this place;

       Incite them to quick motion; for I must

       Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple

       Some vanity of mine art: it is my promise,

       And they expect it from me.

       ARIEL.

       Presently?

       PROSPERO.

       Ay, with a twink.

       ARIEL.

       Before you can say ‘Come’ and ‘Go,’

       And breathe twice; and cry ‘so, so,’

       Each one, tripping on his toe,

       Will be here with mop and mow.

       Do you love me, master? no?

       PROSPERO.

       Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach

       Till thou dost hear me call.

       ARIEL.

       Well, I conceive.

       [Exit]

       PROSPERO.

       Look, thou be true; do not give dalliance

       Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw

       To th’ fire i’ the blood: be more abstemious,

       Or else good night your vow!

       FERDINAND.

       I warrant you, sir;

       The white-cold virgin snow upon my heart

       Abates the ardour of my liver.

       PROSPERO.

       Well.—

       Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary,

       Rather than want a spirit: appear, and pertly.

       No tongue! all eyes! be silent.

       [Soft music]

       [A Masque. Enter IRIS]

       IRIS.

       Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas

       Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and peas;

       Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,

       And flat meads thatch’d with stover, them to keep;

       Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,

       Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,

       To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom groves,

       Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,

       Being lass-lorn: thy pole-clipt vineyard;

       And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,

       Where thou thyself dost air: the Queen o’ the sky,

       Whose watery arch and messenger am I,

       Bids thee leave these; and with her sovereign grace,

      

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